


Carpe Lucem

by manonrose284



Series: The God Killers [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Aged Up Percy Jackson Character(s), F/M, Fluff, God Killers, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nico di Angelo & Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano Friendship, Not Canon Compliant - The Blood of Olympus (Heroes of Olympus), Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonrose284/pseuds/manonrose284
Summary: Welcome to Carpe Lucem (Seize the Light)Light continuation of Fractured Darkness
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Hades/Persephone (Percy Jackson), Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Hera/Zeus (Percy Jackson), Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Series: The God Killers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795147
Comments: 25
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you read the first chapter of Carpe Noctem, the first little bit of this will look familiar. I didn’t want to assume everyone who wanted to read Carpe Lucem also read Carpe Noctem. That’s all for now, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy <3

Pandemonium

The infirmary was utter pandemonium.

When the injured Greeks started being carted in from the battle, Will had slipped into that zone where his mind was clearest and glove covered hands calmest. His siblings had been preparing for this for weeks, and the influx of wounded demigods pushed the infirmary's capacity to the limits, but that underlying organization remained. An infrastructure of healing and efficiency was what the children of Apollo knew best— at least those of them who preferred a scalpel and medical reports to a bow and book of haiku's.

It had been a relief when the injured Romans began filing in as well— a relief because they looked much worse off than the Greeks, but more importantly that their presence meant that Nico had made it, that the Parthenos had worked. With considerable effort, Will kept the information tucked deep in his heart, and the knowledge that his boyfriend was home fueled Will's concentration. He had a job to do. Hazel would get Nico and Reyna here when she could. He just hoped it was soon. Before he could get weighed down with worry as the seconds turned to minutes with still no sign of Nico, Reyna or any of the Seven, a large group of Romans stepped into the bustling hive of curtain separated rooms and blond, tan healers. But these Romans weren't here to seek treatment. Will saw them standing in the doorway, being pushed aside by his siblings to help more injured demigods through and into the dwindling empty rooms. Will made his way across the entryway, eyes narrowing at the one who seemed the group's leader.

Healer to healer, son of Apollo and daughter of Phoebus.

Armor dull with grime and dark earth and red splatters, the Roman stood eye level to Will. Her features were harsh, skin not the color of chocolate but more like that of leather armor, of mahogany hilted daggers, of a . Those eyes reminded him of Nico's but there was no gold flecked in them, nothing but levelheaded calculation as she tilted her head with an awkward curtness that told Will she was more used to battle and field medicine than patients and human interaction.

"Twenty healers," she jerked her head to the demigods flanking her. Exhaustion was clear in their eyes, but their shoulders were thrown back, chins high. Ready to serve. "Give us a job. It will be done."

She extended an arm covered in the same evidence of war as her armor and shoes. Will removed his glove and took it. It seemed as though the entire infirmary paused as one, all bearing witness to the unity that echoed that strange ripple they'd all felt moments before.

"Sterilize as best you can," Will said, breaking the grip. He called out to his sister Kayla and asked if she'd please get the newcomers integrated into their system as quick as possible. Will made to turn away with a grim smile readying himself to return to the fray of the injured but paused long enough to meet each member of the group's eyes and say, "Thank you."

A curt nod was their only reply before they all turned to Kayla who led them deeper into the infirmary for disinfection.

Once they were gone, Will let out a tense breath as he headed to a nearby sink to clean of the blood and grime so he could grab a fresh pair of gloves. Still no signs of Nico.

The wounded and those who helped to bring them in were mostly quiet save for moans or grunts of pain and labored breathing. Will's ears strained for any news regarding Nico as scalding water rushed over his hands. The skin was raw from washing so many times already, but he barely registered the discomfort.

He'd just slipped on a new pair of blue gloves when a son of Ares burst through the double doored entrance. It had been Annabeth's suggestion to leave a squadron of Ares campers and a few children of Apollo skilled in archery behind and have them stationed outside of the infirmary in the event Echidna breached Camp Half-Blood's invisible border walls. Everything went quiet as he bellowed out, "Something's happening in the field! Look out the windows!"

Will raced across the room to the far side, launching himself at the nearest windowsill, all around him demigods both injured and healthy, both Roman and Greek, did the same.

But there was nothing.

Literally nothing.

Like a curtain drawn or a veil hung, beyond the invisible walls shielding the Camp grounds was nothing.

Nothing but pitch-black darkness.

No one spoke, no one moved. A collective breath was held as treatments halted and even the wounded went silent.

And when the hushed murmurs— mostly prayers to the gods for those still on the battlefield— began to fill the infirmary, a voice whispered beside him, "What in Jupiter's name is that?"

Will didn't take his eyes from the phenomena but knew it was the Roman healer from before who'd spoken. The Ares campers stationed outside the infirmary had their weapons ready in confused determination, the Apollo campers with arrows nocked and their bows drawn in weary fear, but as Will gazed into the distant nothingness, he knew.

Knew because the darkness wasn't nothing.

It called to him.

It felt like home.

"Nico," Will whispered more to himself than the Roman at his side. His stomach rolled, unease washing over him. His hands— always steady, always confident— began to shake with tremors. Because what he was witnessing, what they were all witnessing….

God Killer

That's what Reyna had told him and Annabeth and Jason and Hazel and Leo and Frank and Piper. But not Percy. They hadn't told Percy. The thought, the fear that struck him at the thought, was pushed aside as the darkness suddenly began to recede. Will couldn't see anything past the tree line and the sheer distance separating him from the battlefield and he let out a curse for the lack of visibility. All he knew was that the pitch-black power was no longer filling the sky, choking the morning sun's rays. That blue cloudless sky was revealed once more and Will gripped the windowsill so tightly he felt it groan beneath his grip. Because it took every ounce of his being to keep from running the impossible distance to find Nico.

Instead he spit out another curse and tore his hands that had stopped their shaking from the ledge. His siblings needed him, these wounded soldiers needed him, everyone needed him. So despite the dagger of fear sunk deep in his chest, despite the desperation and yearning and agony bleeding invisible torrents down his body, Will forced that mask over his features. Reassurance and calm clear on his face, Will addressed the silent infirmary. It was an effort not to choke on the pain, to not grit his teeth or clench his jaw at the phantom blade twisting in his chest with every word, but he kept his voice even and warm. Even managed a slight smile of encouragement. His words eased the space and after another heartbeat of silence, the healers launched back into action.

Feeling a lingering gaze, Will turned to see the daughter of Phoebus stare unflinchingly as he met those irises. With a curt nod that felt of respect and a knowing glint to her eye, she headed back to her assigned station.

Will glanced back out the window one last time, again seeing nothing but treetops and a radiant morning sun high in the blue sky, and turned around. Heading for the private room that had been reserved in the very back of the infirmary— the largest space in the entire building, complete with two beds and two of his siblings waiting patiently— Will had just begun to part the curtain when a cry burst from the way he'd just come.

"WILL!"

The son of Apollo tore through the hall, demigods jumping out of his path as he bounded across the wood floors. Because that was Hazel's voice. It was her shattered scream that echoed in the hallway, echoed in his ears, echoed in his heart. It was desperate. It was a plea. Will ran faster. And when he got to the main entryway—

Static filled his head, cotton his ears, ice his veins

Hazel was swaying but didn't let go of Reyna who was shivering violently with what looked to be burnout, and Nico….

Reyna slipped through Hazel's grasp and collapsed to the floor. The Praetor did not rise.

Not two heartbeats had passed when the rest of the Seven burst through the door, Frank's labored breathing and Percy's dripping wound filled the silence. But Will couldn't hear anything— not even his own shouts, his own commands— as the Roman healers went for Reyna while Jason, Percy, and Annabeth quickly reached down before racing to follow Will.

Pandemonium

Nico reaching out weakly as he was carried, reaching out for Will who was fighting tears as he took the frigid hand

it was pandemonium.    


* * *

Curtains were thrown back— nearly ripping the soundproofing material from the hinges— seconds before Percy, Annabeth, and Jason rushed through and gently laid Nico atop the nearest of the two empty cots. Will had ordered Reyna be taken to a separate room until she woke, and before he could even get the words out, the two of his siblings who’d been waiting were removing the second bed to grant more space to the now crowded room as the Seven hurriedly filed in.

Will yelled out commands like a war general and around him, his siblings burst into action. Together they made a steady, confident unit tighter than any army. 

Nico’s eyes were struggling to stay open and there were incomprehensible sounds escaping his trembling lips as he began choking for air. One word had Will’s sister placing an oxygen line under his nose and another had his brother adjusting the bed to elevate Nico slightly. But the bleeding… even Will’s siblings who’d been at his side healing the most morbid of injuries swayed at it all. 

The sight of Nico’s chest obliterated Will.

Because those were deep gashes spanning the length of his upper body. And blood wasn’t the only thing pouring from those lesions at a sickening rate. Because those were shadows— thick fluid-like smoke that seeped from each gash and clung to the crimson tides. Will had never seen anything like it. The skin itself was in tatters, jagged from what must have been serrated… claws? That’s what the caverns looked like. 

Will’s heart skipped a beat. The single moment lasting what felt like hours as he remembered the iris message all those days ago when Will had told Nico about finding their dream home… and how Nico had admitted to having a recurring night terror… something about claws. The memory felt like a hot, burning coal in Will’s mind but he put that all aside. He didn’t know what happened out there other than the wall of darkness. It didn’t matter though, nothing mattered but Nico laying atop the cot, shadows bleeding out of him through each lesion as rapidly as the rivers of plasma.

“Father,” Will pleaded, not knowing if he was talking aloud or just begging in his head, _ “Father, please.” _

For ten soul-crushing seconds, nothing happened. A whole ten seconds where, like ink, the dark smoking blood seeped from him. Will bit out a curse that under different circumstances would’ve made Hazel— and maybe even Frank— blanch, but finally, finally a faint glow was cast throughout the room.

The light pouring from Will brightened and his whole body became stiflingly, yet comfortingly warm as his father’s blessing wrapped around him. His muscles tensed with the new strength, his mind sharpened as any trace of exhaustion was decimated. He sent up a broken thank you, the only answer being a radiant pulse that fed the light beneath his palms. 

Each scrape and shallow cut slowly pulled together and he could actually feel the tissue weaving back together in some heightened sixth sense. Beneath his hands, Nico thrashed uncontrollably at the sensation of muscle and tissue mending, and at the scorching burn of light being forced into his essence so wholly constructed of shadows and darkness and cold. There would be consequences to this reduction of what seemed to be Nico’s life force, Will was sure of it, but they could deal with that later. When the son of Death wasn’t so close to that lethal edge.

Will held in a breath as power corded through him and he watched the mildest of all the claw marks start to close. But before it could seal shut completely, or even move on to the other deeper gouges, everything stopped. 

Ink like darkness and blood began pouring from those four deepest gashes in a torrent. Nico collapsed against the mattress, eyes barely open as he coughed weakly. Will’s brother was instantly there to bring a cloth up to Nico’s mouth, being careful of the oxygen line. The white fabric came away red.

It wasn’t enough. The blessing of Apollo wasn’t enough. Fear gripped Will as his heart rate plummeted so fast he nearly fainted. The blessing hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t worked. 

He swayed on his feet, shaking his head with bared teeth and pressed harder into the wounds despite the yelp and whimpering agony that poured from those angelic lips. 

_ No _

_ No no no no this can’t be happening. It’s just a nightmare. It’s not real this can’t be happening. This—  _

Then there was a hand, weak and trembling, resting on his wrist. Nico’s onyx eyes were pleading and tear stained, his complexion pale and faintly translucent as he said hoarsely, “Will.”

“I know it hurts but just— j-just stay with me, you're doing great.” Will tried to keep his voice strong, tried to keep the tremor from his voice, from his hands. Neither had ever failed him, and he'd be damned if they did now. Of course he always cared about his patients well-being, but this was different. This was Nico . The man he’d planned a future with. The man he loved more than life itself. The man whose life was pouring through Will’s fingers with each breath more shallow than the last despite the holy glow that was supposed to have been the answer, supposed to have been their miracle.

" _ Will _ ," this time the plea was desperate, a mere rasp of shattered breath. Those gold flecked eyes were nearly blind with agony. The healer removed his hands from the gore. 

“W-why are you stopping?” Percy stammered from somewhere behind him. “Will?!”

But the healer was stepping back with raised hands that were no longer glowing with anything but blood. He stepped back with wide eyes. But no tears. Never tears. He was a doctor. He was a healer, he healed things it was in the name. But this…

“It’s not enough,” he breathed in disbelief. “The blessing… it isn’t enough. There’s too much darkness. Too many shadows. Too much blood.”

“Let me try,” Will didn’t have to turn around to know there was a dangerous glint to Percy’s features as he said, “I have to try.”

Though it pained him more than any being could ever know, Will shook his head as the dread settled in. “Even if you could stop the bleeding, the tissue isn’t closing. He’ll die of infection within hours."

Hazel brought a hand to her mouth to muffle the sobs as her breath hitched. Percy's vision grew blurry from the tears welling in each wide eye. This couldn’t be happening.

_ Not like this _

_ Please no pleasenopleasenoplease _

Will cursed himself for the little knowledge he had about God Killers. Were they a different species all together? Were their biological systems different from a regular demigod? The rolling fog of darkness told him yes. And for a single moment, Will’s heart was frozen with fear. Because for the first time in his life as a demigod, as a cabin leader, as a healer, as a doctor… he had no idea what to do. Because if the blessing of Apollo had done little against the dark shadows that clung to every drop of blood… 

If he had time, he’d run tests and take samples; if he had time, he’d consult with Annabeth and his siblings, pour over the findings for hours to find a solution; if he had time, he’d track down the Fates and do whatever they wanted for answers. But he had no time. He had no test results. He had no answers. He had no solutions. Will had never in his entire life felt so useless, so soul crushingly worthless.

Percy saw the hesitation and staggered forward, his eyes trained on Nico as he spoke to Will. “Let me try," he begged again, "please, Will.”

From behind Percy, Annabeth tensed, about to lunge forward and remind him of the promise he’d made her swear. But those words still echoed in her ears. And it wasn’t the way his eyes had pierced her soul, or even the two words themselves that had sunk deep enough to impale her heart— puncturing arteries and straight through the fabric of her very being— it was the way Percy’s voice had broken on that one word. The betrayal, the disbelief, the horror trapped in those three letters.

_ You _

_ You  _ knew

Annabeth knew if she took that one step, if she closed the distance between them, if she voiced opposition, he would pause. She’d even armed herself with a verbal sword dripping with poison in case he defied her: ‘ _ you could kill him _ ’. She felt the words on the tip of her tongue, felt their toxicity and power that she knew would freeze the God Killer in his tracks. But she did not take that single step, she did not reach out, she did not grasp his arms or drive that poisoned blade into him. And when he turned to her, Annabeth swallowed the toxin, swallowed the shards of serrated metal.

The daughter of Athena averted her eyes as she nodded.

With renewed determination, Percy moved to the other side of the bed, using the steps to even out his breathing best he could as both hands rose. Opposite from Will, Percy closed his eyes and placed his hands above Nico’s chest. 

Scarred fingers still covered in war and battle and death flexed.

No one in the room so much as breathed, though the rest of the Seven prepared themselves mentally to step in at the first sign of things going south. In one long, controlled exhale, Percy clamped his eyes and the power inside of him tighter.

And then

the bleeding stopped.

The rivers of plasma that had only seconds ago been pouring from those ungodly lesions, halted their flow. Percy didn’t dare open his eyes, didn’t dare clench his fingers more, didn’t dare move an inch. He felt Nico’s body go completely still beneath his hold as he absorbed the tenseness from his brother’s muscles, as he subdued the inflammation by redirecting the plasma and returning it to the famished regions. Percy had no idea how he was doing it, but he didn’t stop to think. Not even as his own body shrieked out from the effort of maintaining such control. Control Percy could only imagine was possible only by the presence of his brother. Of his fellow God Killer. It didn’t matter how he was doing it— Percy could care less right now. All that mattered was keeping Nico alive. 

Percy’s power roared and reared within him, every passing second becoming more difficult to hold it back. He focused on nothing but breathing and control. 

The room went utterly silent as all bore witness to the God Killer. And when Will could remember how to breathe, he stepped forward, hands aglow once again. The son of Apollo placed his luminous hands beside the son of Poseidon’s contorted fingers. 

The healer lowered both palms onto Nico’s chest, blood not pouring over his fingers even as he pressed the wounds gently. Will flicked his eyes up to Percy who had shut out the world with clamped lids and a furrowed brow, before closing his own. That warmth greeted him, and Will gave himself completely to the thrall. And when both eyelids parted, they revealed not eyeballs with golden irises but instead orbs of actual sunlight so bright that the others had to shield their eyes with various sounds of shock. But not a moment later, the light died out, the glow receded. 

Will removed his hands and when the final rays of blinding light left the room cold and dark, he nearly fainted. Because where moments ago had been an incomprehensible mess of torn flesh, dead tissue, and sea of red… was nothing but pale skin and four massive scars. 

Percy released his hold, opened his own eyes and unflexed his fingers. He looked at those morbid scars, at the body so unsettlingly still, and at the lack of shadows clinging to the caverns of that muscled frame. 

Dead.

He looked dead.

Holding his breath, Percy reached out to place a single hand over Nico’s heart as his own chest tightened. And when he felt a beat— staggered and shallow but a beat nonetheless— Percy exhaled roughly. Palm still over Nico’s heart, Percy grit his teeth in concentration and willed the current to flow, to course through his starving veins. And when the rhythm became that of survival, Percy fell to his knees.

There were anxious voices around him asking what was wrong, if it had worked, but Percy had no words as he pressed his brow into the wooden floors and cried.

Because his brother… his brother was  _ alive _ .

* * *

Percy was bent over, arms braced on his thighs as his legs bounced up and down, twitching with anticipation despite the shocks of pain at the motion. Right after staunching Nico’s bleeding and whatever it is he’d done to return Nico’s heartbeat to normal, Percy had found that he had no problem forcing his powers back down into their slumber— it seemed Nico’s presence alone was a comfort enough. The feat alone had Percy’s mind racing— the powers, these killing powers that on the Argo had been nothing but death and pain and fear… Percy had used them to heal. To save. As the minutes ticked on, and Percy’s legs continued to bounce, and the needles of pain began to grow, Percy couldn’t get the thought out of his head. And he couldn’t take his eyes off of Nico. Of his brother, lying on the medical bed in the center of the room covered in bandages and salve— in hopes of reducing the severity of those brutal scars— and breathing. Every breath made Percy’s own easier. Every beep of the heart rate monitor made Percy’s own heart echo.

The rest of the Seven, Will and his siblings all had been more than slightly alarmed when he’d fallen to the ground and cried— the sobs had wracked his frame for minutes on end— and yet all were relieved beyond belief that it seemed Percy had been able to contain his powers when all was said and done. No one questioned it or thought too hard about how that was possible when it hadn’t been until now. But it had taken Jason, Leo, Frank and a micro dose of sedative from Will’s sister to get him to leave Nico’s side and get into a separate examination room for several children of Apollo to disinfect, stitch, and bandage the gash in his leg. But no one could stop him from limping with pain and vision blurry from drugs and tears back to Nico’s side— especially when he’d drawn Riptide— where he hadn’t left for what felt like hours. 

Annabeth had tried to come over but with a piercing glare of deceit to her and the others that said he hadn’t forgotten what they’d kept from him, the Seven kept to the other side of the room. Only Will was able to sit beside the God Killer as they all waited in tense silence. 

Two hours had passed when movement finally sounded from the bed in the form of shifting sheets and muttered whispers.

Nico tried to speak, but he was still coming out of the near coma and something  _ other  _ pulled at him. 

“Shhh, you’re delirious. You’re safe, just rest.” 

That voice, Nico barely remembered his own name but that voice he would know even if he were deaf. 

_ “Will.”  _

He said the name over and over like a prayer on his bloody lips and when that voice spoke again— much closer this time— when it whispered,  _ “Nico” _ , the God Killer fell apart. He lunged for it, wrapping his bandaged body around the piece of his soul that he’d been barely managing to survive without for too long. But no more. Never again. The pain in his body was nothing, and he didn’t care who might be in the room because all he could see, all he could feel, was Will. 

The kiss obliterated him. 

Home. 

For the first time in months, Nico was home. Not camp, not his cabin, but back with Will in his arms. 

Tan body enveloped in his pale arms, lips so soft against his cracked lips it should be a crime. And the smell, the taste oh  _ gods _ , Nico was simultaneously lost and found in it. He barely registered the sounds of shuffling feet nor the door shutting. And when it opened again, Nico growled defensively on pure instinct. No one was taking Will from him ever again. Nico could barely breathe, but this wasn’t like in his past or his night terrors, no. It was the crushing love for his soulmate and the locking of their lips that stole the air from his lungs. And he would gladly suffocate for it. Pain flared from his chest and he growled at that too, but Will sensed the tension that lashed throughout and reigned the surge of lust from the growl to pull back gently— barely an inch, but enough for Nico to miss his warmth. 

The softness in Will’s smile made Nico weak. He let himself be lowered back into the pillows, whatever strength his ruined body had summoned rapidly deteriorating. 

“You came back,” Will whispered.

Silver lined Will’s eyes and Nico stifled a groan as he reached over to wipe the tears that had begun to fall. Nico smiled, but a shadow passed over his face. “What I did back there… I-” 

Will silenced him with a kiss on his brow. “You did what you had to. I’m so proud of you.” 

“You’re not afraid of what I am?” Nico asked wearily, a roughness to his voice from the screaming that had ravaged his throat only hours ago. “Of what I can do?” 

Nestled beside Nico, Will tilted his head up, letting his warm breath tease Nico’s neck. Beneath him, Nico let out a stifled moan. Will smiled into the spot where Nico’s shoulder met his neck at the white knuckled grip Nico had on the sheets and then he leaned in so Nico wouldn’t just hear his words, but  _ feel  _ them against that sensitive spot. “You are mine. And I am yours. I’m not any more afraid of your darkness than you are of mine.” His teeth grazed that pulsing spot, he could feel the lifeblood thrum beneath. “My shadow.”

And just like that, Will soothed that hole in his core that had ripped open the moment the smoke had cleared and he realized what he’d done; the horror of what Will would think of the monster in his veins. But Nico could see it clear as a pane of glass, clear as the wall he’d shattered in his mind— Will was not afraid. And despite the ache in Nico’s entire body to beg for Will to devour him, something speared his mind and he nearly bolted upright.

“Where’s Reyna? Is she alright? I need to see her.”

Will was grateful he’d unhooked the heart rate monitor, because rapid beeping would have filled the room and startled Nico at the burst of fear at the words. But he was more grateful to be able to calm that racing heart, place a hand over it, and say, “She’s alright— asleep and burnt out from lending all of her power, but she should recover within the day. I’ve got my best treating her, and some Roman healers are helping too.”

Nico once again let himself be pulled back down to the mattress, and let out a shaky breath as relief washed over him. They laid there in silence for a moment before Nico realized Will was taking extreme care not to make contact with the top of Nico’s bandaged upper half. The wrapping was constricting and worryingly extensive. Starting just beneath his collarbones all the way down to just above his hips. A new unease made Nico’s heart pick up speed.

“Nico?” Will asked with concern, having felt the change being so close beside him. It took Nico a moment to answer. Because while Will had said he wasn’t scared of the powers Nico possessed... Nico looked down at the bandages and the discomfort beneath— the stretching of thick skin told Nico all he needed to without seeing. The scars he now bore weren’t small, and they wouldn’t be going away. He’d already had scars, of course— there weren’t many places on his skin without them, but this… it was mutilation. To an unlovable degree. Nico choked on the thought and his voice was barely a whisper as he said, “The… the scars..”

Understanding melted the worry in Will’s features as he placed a gentle hand on the bandages. “We’ve talked about this before. You know scars don’t scare me.”

They had talked about it before— when they’d first started dating and Nico had been sure that the sight of his body would scare Will away. And Will had assured him that scars were nothing more than evidence of survival, of life. He considered them something to be worn proudly— despite hiding his own. And even though Nico knew all of this, he couldn’t stop himself from shifting uncomfortably as insecurity chilled the blood in his veins.

“Won’t they remind you of what happened?” 

“Yes. They’ll remind me that despite everything, you came back to me.” 

Will reached up to wipe away the tear sliding down Nico’s bruised cheek. He felt Nico’s voice rumble against his lips as he whispered, “You saved me.”

Will parted his lips to say Percy had been a massive part of that— that if it weren't for him stepping in and staunching the bleeding enough for only the shadows and ripped skin to remain for the blessing to finally work, Nico would have been dead. But he choked on the words, not even able to fathom what reality would be like if it weren't for Percy, and as Nico’s eyelids began to droop, Will decided maybe that was a conversation for another day when the other God Killer was present. So instead, Will reached down and intertwined his fingers with Nico’s. 

“And you saved us all.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry I didn't get this out last weekend. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this story in the slightest. I spent a while yesterday planning out this and Carpe Noctum and I am so excited to keep it all going. There's a lot in store :) Life has been very hectic so my posting schedule may be out of wack for the next few weeks but I'll still do my best to get at least one chapter out every week <3
> 
> Okay that's all for now, hope you enjoy!!

The light, it was too bright. It burned her eyes despite both lids being shut. She’d grown accustomed to the darkness, to the void of nothing that she’d been existing in for what could’ve been hours, or days, or even years. Time had no meaning where darkness was the only construct. Her thoughts were fleeting, neither here nor there, and nothing existed in the dark embrace of her mindscape. It wasn’t frightening, it wasn’t peaceful. It was just nothing.

But then the nothing had suddenly begun to feel like something. And the light, that burning light, had announced itself as if a shard of sun slipping through the folds of a midnight curtain. 

Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy, but the burning had softened, no more a sharp blade, but now a dull sort of blinding warmth. It seeped into her skin, into her body that began to tingle to life as the nerves became aware. The warmth gave way to new sensations, to many, so many. She was berated with sounds— hushed whispers— and smells— strawberries, grass, blood. 

Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy, but the burning within her became prevalent. It was a fire raging inside of her, the heat rising exponentially. 

Burn out

Why, she wondered, was it called a burn out when she felt as though all of the fire was trapped within her? Like she was so dry inside, so parched of her strength and her powers that every fiber of her being had set itself aflame in mourning of the emptiness. 

Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy, but a thought, the very first fully formed thought in however long since entering this pit of nothingness blared between her ears. It ricochet between her ringing ears like a bullet, like shrapnel in a glass room.

Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy, but Reyna forced them open, forced herself upright because _Nico_ . Where was Nico? She barely knew her own name, let alone where she was in this godsforsaken universe but _Nico_. She needed him. He needed her. Where was he? What had happened?

The memories berated her, drowning her as she sat upright on trembling limbs and as her body heaved with labored breaths that each burned with the same ferocity as the flames inside of her. With each breath the burning lessened and the thought grew louder as her vision finally began to clear.

There were people in the room, people with blurred features that she couldn’t quite make out as the haze of her coma slowly relinquished its hold. She didn’t bother with pleasantries as she jolted from the bed and staggered from the room. 

Hands were on her almost immediately but she fought them off on trained instinct alone as a much newer, rawer, stronger instinct guided her through bustling, foreign halls and strange curtained rooms. Like a string in her heart that led the way, she followed the twine of fate and by the time she reached the end of one hall and reached out to part the curtain, her sight was restored, her breathing back to normal, her throat burning and core uncomfortably empty but she was present. And when she pulled the fabric back quietly, taking a silent step into the room, Reyna— for the first time since launching from the hospital bed— went completely still.

Nico

He was asleep

He was alive

Will stood over the prone demigod, the Prince of Darkness and Shadows, the God Killer who was breathing. He was breathing. That bruised chest, so tightly bandaged with white wrappings, was rising and falling. She was lost in it all for a moment, just watching that rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall of his chest. Alive. Her best friend had done the impossible, he’d defeated the impossible, and he’d survived. They both had. She was lost in her sea of emotions, Will not noticing her presence since his back was turned to her as he ran a damp cloth over Nico’s forehead.

Several heartbeats passed before Reyna noticed Percy. Sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room, the God Killer looked as if he hadn’t slept in far too long. Forearms braced on his thighs, shadows clinging to his under eyes, those eyes unreadable as they gazed unseeing at the floorboards, a paleness to his usually tan complexion, and a wildness to his shaggy locks of raven hair. He sensed her eyes on him and those sea green irises instantly lightened as they flicked up to see her. Reactions delayed by what was definitely sleep deprivation, Percy jumped up to greet her, wincing slightly at the harsh movement. That’s when she noticed the thick bandage on his left leg that spanned from mid-thigh, down his knee, and finally stopping at his shin. The fact he hadn’t passed out from standing on it told her that many stitches and a lot of ambrosia had already been implemented. And the fact those bandages seemed hurriedly applied told her the demigod had not been a willing patient, though she had a feeling that was more due to the sleeping son of Hades than physical pain.

The choked hiss Percy unwillingly let out and jerking motion to rise alerted Will who turned and finally saw Reyna. The master healer made his way across the room, helping Percy on his way over by placing a steadying arm onto the taller demigod’s shoulder and another at his back. Percy waved him off with a smile and Reyna moved closer. 

“How are you feeling?” Will whispered, scanning Reyna with those eyes of a practiced clinical examiner. 

Despite the now dull simmering deep within her and the parched dryness to her throat, Reyna gave a small grin and a nod. He pinned her with a knowing look but she was saved by Percy who staggered forward a step and gestured to Nico, “He’s sleeping but he’ll be alright.”

Reyna loosed a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and gave another nod, this one of gratitude to Will who had no doubt performed nothing short of a miracle. The healer seemed to decipher her silence, most likely having learned the skill from Nico, and tilted his head from Reyna to Percy. 

“Why don’t you two go get something to eat,” his voice was hushed and soft but left no room for argument. Percy opened his mouth to object, something like fear flashing across his features as his eyes darted to the bed. Will stopped him with a single glare of surgical precision. “You need food, Jackson. Or else by the time Nico wakes up, you’ll be on the floor.”

Percy’s mouth hung open with mock disbelief before bobbing his head with a look that said ‘yeah that’s probably true’. Reyna glanced over Will’s shoulder to see Nico once more, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, and that he was in fact alive before her eyes. Will caught the yearning glance and gave her one of his megawatt smiles. 

“It’s real. He’s gonna be just fine.” Reyna wished he’d say it a million times more, wished she could stay in here forever and soak in the realization that they’d done it— Nico and she had done the impossible and survived. But as it were, Will ushered she and Percy out the curtain door, making them promise to grab Percy some more ambrosia on their way to the mess hall.

By the time they’d exited the infirmary, Reyna was lost in thought, her mind still in that room. A thought had begun to form, one that she couldn’t part from as they descended the steps slowly so as to not disturb Percy’s wound any more than necessary.

The thought haunted her into silence even as Percy spoke beside her. Haunted her to think of what might have happened if Nico had died. If she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye. It might have— no it definitely would have destroyed her. It would have broken her in a way she might never recover. A chill went down her spine despite the warm light of noon. A hand was suddenly on her, pulling at her left bicep, jolting her from the reality that might have been. Her whole body tensed, muscles coiling to strike the attack, but it was only Percy.

“Sorry, uneven ground,” he said, recovering from the fall quickly and removing his hand. He took another bite of the ambrosia in his hand and though Reyna wondered about what he tasted that set his eyes alight and posture proud, she asked instead about his wound. Still chewing, Percy waved at a group of campers before answering in a low voice, “Just from the battle, it’s fine. Will's cousin, Bethany, said it’ll be fully healed in a few days.”

“That’s good.”

Percy nodded.

“And Nico, how is he doing? Is he really going to be fine?”

Percy’s pace slowed as they entered the mess hall, swallowing the last of his ambrosia to pick up two plates, extending one to her. Again, he kept his voice low as they filled their plates. 

“Yeah, Will’s a bit worried about the fever though.” Percy sunk a serving spoon into a large bowl of mashed potatoes then handed it to Reyna before continuing down the line of food. “He tried to explain it to me but… kinda went over my head with all the medical jargon. From what I understand though… Nico’s actual biology is tied to shadows and darkness. When Nico was… when he was dying, Apollo blessed Will who used a bunch of light to heal him. But since he basically forced a ton of light into him, almost all of the shadows are gone now and his body isn’t real jazzed about that.”

“He’s always so cold, it would make sense for that to come from somewhere. And now that the source is gone, that also makes sense for the issue regulating temperature.”

Reyna finished assembling her pulled pork sandwich and followed Percy to a table. Being attuned to order as a Roman, she realized quickly that each table was specifically for each cabin. The one Percy led her to was marked by a trident insignia, and it was much less worn out than the others, and the one beside it— marked with a silver skull— looked untouched. She hesitated before sitting across from Percy, not wanting to break any sort of etiquette rules. 

“Exactly, I just hope Will can figure something out before Nico wakes up. I’d hate for him to be uncomfortable. He’s been through enough.”

Reyna nodded. They began to eat and she noticed Percy’s gaze fall on the table filled with campers that looked similar enough to Annabeth for Reyna to deduce it was the Athena table. Reyna cleared her throat and when Percy turned to look at her, the darkness under his eyes clung to his irises for a moment.

“I wanted to tell you about everything, we all did. Annabeth did too. She was just trying to prote—” 

That was a wound too fresh, too raw and stinging— even more so than that with which lied beneath his bandages— enough so that Percy let out a sharp breath before quickly changing the subject. “Thank you for keeping Nico safe, for getting him back to us.”

Reyna nodded, picking up on the que and not pressing the subject. Annabeth’s betrayal had struck him deeply, that much was clear to see. And from what Nico had revealed to her about Percy’s past, she couldn’t find it in her heart to blame him. So she lowered her fork and leveled her gaze with him.

“And thank you for helping to save Nico.”

Percy stopped chewing, going still. “I never said I helped.”

“I’m not an idiot, Percy. And remember we spent a bit of time around each other in New Rome. I know you well enough to see you helped in some capacity.”

Glancing around to the other campers at their respective tables and in the land beyond the columns of marble, Percy spoke quietly as he told her everything. Reyna was glad she was seated, for she would have fallen; glad she hadn’t taken a bite of food, for she would have choked. Impossible. It was impossible what he’d done. But then again, he was an impossibility. He was just as much a God Killer as Nico was. And the evidence of that, the death and bloodshed was just on the other side of Camp, just beyond the invisible barrier. 

“If I’d woken up to him… to him dead… gods I don’t even want to think about it.” 

A darkness cast over Percy’s eyes as he averted his gaze and went back to his food. They ate in silence until she noticed eyes on her from the other tables and from the campers that passed by outside of the mess hall. At first she thought it was because of Percy until he burst out laughing.

“The ring,” he said, gesturing to her hand.

“What?”

“Everyone at Camp Half-Blood knows what that ring is.” Percy said with a grin, “And whose it is.”

“Oh.”

Reyna thought about hiding her hand below the table but killed the thought before it could fully form. This was Nico’s ring, her best friend’s ring, and she would wear it proudly. Her posture straightened, and she met the eyes of each demigod who stared. Percy couldn’t hold back his laughter and was still smiling as they rose to put their plates in the bin and exit the mess hall.

That feeling of lightness and warmth dissipated as Percy led them past a clearing beside the strawberry fields, both far below the ridge they stood on. Reyna halted, looking down at it all and felt Percy’s eyes on her even before he stepped up beside her. He shifted his weight from the bad leg and followed her gaze.

“You and I both know Larry isn’t fit to lead.” There was a gruffness to Percy’s voice as he pinned his eyes onto the singular tent more decorated than all the rest. “He’s no Praetor.”

“It does not matter. By the Roman Code, it is his duty to serve.” The words sounded rehearsed, even to her ears, since they’d been hammered into her for years. Until now she’d believed them with absolute certainty, with pride. But now… now they felt stale on her tongue. How was it possible that everything had changed so much? That she had changed so much? She glanced down at the ring on her finger.

Percy squinted into the light, that seemingly endless sea of tents the suns echo.

“You should’ve seen it, Reyna. When I mentioned you, the lines broke. And the soldiers' faces… there was unease. Hesitation.” He turned to face her, awe clear on his face which she thought strange given all he himself was capable of. The God Killer, able to take life and preserve it… and yet he looked to her with wonder and amazement. “Their bodies may belong to the legion, but their hearts and souls follow you. Not Octavian. Not Larry. No one. They respect you, Reyna. You did what none were brave enough to do. And that alone makes you more Roman than any of them.”

His words weighed down on her shoulders, exhaustion and burn out still deep in her bones as well. Percy saw the shift in posture and tilted his head to the roman ranks with an understanding nod. “And if it’s a position you no longer want, I know that none— not even Larry— would challenge whoever you elect to replace you. Because it’s clear to everyone that you always have Rome's best interest in mind.”

She scoffed at the compliment and the impossibility of leaving the legion despite the feeling of dread that washed over her at the thought of returning to New Rome. 

When Reyna stayed silent, Percy had to force himself not to smile, she really had picked up a lot from Nico. But he could tell she didn’t want to discuss this and since she hadn’t pushed about Annabeth, he didn’t either. Instead, he dared a shove at her shoulder and gave a mischievous grin. “Ya know… Will didn’t say how long we had to be gone for…”

Despite herself, Reyna gave a whisper of a smile back. “Pity.”

They hurried back to the infirmary. Back to Nico’s side.

* * *

Nico had been awake for barely ten minutes when Reyna and Percy burst in. Will nearly dropped the glass of water he was holding up for Nico to drink but regained his composure and greeted them with a smile. But their attention was on Nico. Best friend. Brother.

“So I didn’t die,” Nico rasped, panting slightly. “That’s pretty cool.”

The room was filled with laughter that went on long enough to borderline hysterics, leaving them each— even Reyna— with tears in their eyes. When silence retook the space, Reyna went to Nico’s side and took his hand. She nearly released it at the burning touch, but only squeezed his palm more tightly with a strained smile.

“You broke your promise. You said you wouldn’t touch that wall, or that power.” Nico parted his chapped lips to speak, but she only tightened her grip around his hand and lowered herself onto the ground, kneeling at his side. “Thank you, Nico.” She brought his hand to her brow. “Thank you.”

When she lifted her head, Nico’s face was glimmering in the light from the sheen of sweat, and his pale skin seemed to glow, but he too wore a weary smile. The moment of silence they shared lasted a lifetime. Neither could believe it was real. And neither wanted to voice it for fear the Fates might be listening. So instead, they shared that moment of silence, and when it was over, Reyna asked if he needed anything before nodding to Will with a pointed look. The two told Nico they were just a shout away and one of the other healers would find them. And with smiles to Percy, the Roman and the Greek left the God Killers.

Percy pulled a chair over to Nico’s bedside. The son of Hades had looked better, but also much much worse. Like when he’d been covered in blood, nothing more than tattered flesh and splintered bone and fading eyes. Percy shivered at the memory, and a hand was suddenly clasped over the back of his own. It grounded him, that touch, and Percy lifted his gaze to see bandages, steady breaths— his brother.

“How did you do it?” Nico finally asked, gesturing to his beating heart and non-ravaged chest.

“I don’t know,” Percy admitted. “I just… I couldn’t let you die. What about you… how’d you do it?”

Nico smiled weakly. “I couldn’t let you all die.”

Percy nodded, not moving his hand from beneath Nico’s. And though he was almost afraid to ask, Percy swallowed. “What did it feel like?”

Nico was silent for a moment, deep in thought. When he spoke, his brows were furrowed. “There was a glass wall, I shattered it. And when the power was free, it overwhelmed me. It was… it was incredible.” His eyes were unseeing, glazed over as he remembered. “I felt it all, every monster, every bone, every break and kill. Echidna, I felt Echidna’s last scream as she watched her children die around her.” The awe in his voice turned to sorrow, guilt, even. He closed his eyes, taking a moment before opening them and continuing. “But I could barely control it. If that beast hadn’t gotten me… I don’t really want to think about what I might have done.”

They fell into silence, lost in what could have been as their trauma fueled imaginations concocted vile imagery. Percy shook the thoughts away and raised a brow. “So the powers are subdued now? How are you in control right now?”

Nico shook his head, something like fear in his voice. “I’m not really sure. I think just ‘asleep’, for lack of a better word. Whatever you and Will did calmed it down enough to not rise. I think if I were to reach for it though, it would answer. But I wouldn’t be able to control it once it resurfaced.”

Percy nodded in understanding before asking, “The bond, do you feel it too?”

“Yeah, though I didn’t realize it until I was almost gone.” Nico wiped his sweat coated forehead in a vain attempt to find any semblance of relief from the raging heat. “But you dragged me back. You saved me, Percy.”

“You would’ve done the same,” Percy countered with a smile. But then the smile fell slightly, lips going crooked in thought. “So… God Killers… what does that even mean? What was everyone hiding from me?"

Noticing Nico was having trouble clearing his throat, Percy helped him to drink a few sips of water from the cup beside his bed. After a moment, Nico parted his lips and revealed everything he knew, everything Tartarus had told him, everything he’d theorized himself, everything his father had said in the forest mere days ago, and everything he knew about their future teacher, Lupe.

When he was done, Percy made Nico get down a few more sips of water before giving his recount of the past weeks on the Argo as his powers had begun to manifest. Percy told him about Annabeth and the others keeping so much from him, and about the betrayal eating away at him. Nico didn't shun or chide him, he was silent as he thought. 

"What they did is wrong, and knowing Annabeth, she's definitely feeling awful and regretting it. But Percy, your emotions are valid. Take some time to sort your thoughts out and when you're ready, talk to her. I know she'll listen. And you know that too."

Percy nodded solemnly, yet feeling lighter, freer than he had in months. Having someone to talk to that didn’t so much as wince— even when telling in detail of the horrible events that had occurred on the Argo, like his duel with Jason, or using his powers on Annabeth and Piper— at his darkest moments, it was beyond relieving. Percy made to voice his gratitude when he noticed Nico shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

He rose, reaching out but not knowing what to do. “What’s wrong? Nico, talk to me.”

“Too… h-hot,” Nico ground out as he pressed his head into the pillow with clenched teeth.

Under different circumstances, Percy would’ve made a joke, but as it were he bolted to the curtain and called out loudly. Moments later Will was back at Nico’s side, Reyna close behind. The Praetor looked as if she were prepared to duel with the illness with the warrior stance she now stood.

The healer checked Nico’s temperature and muttered under his breath, talking himself through what he should do. From the other side of the bed, Percy asked what was happening.

“Fever isn’t breaking. The light I forced into him with the blessing seemed to eradicate his shadows, it’s having adverse effects, worse than I thought at first."

Percy squinted in the light streaming through the window. The room was full of it. "Wait, what if we got him to his cabin? All the natural shadows and darkness in there… do you think that could help?"

Will stopped everything he was doing to look at Percy with disbelief.

"Oh sorry, is that a dumb idea?"

"No, gods, Percy, that's genius. I can't believe I didn't think of that." The God Killer before him beamed as the other let out a weak chime of laughter.

"Give me a second,” Will said, heading for the exit, “I'll go grab a wheelchair."

“I can get it for you,” Reyna offered.

Nico's face flushed from fever went a shade deeper. Percy read the look easily and said "Hang on, I got a better idea."

Before Nico or Will could object, Percy scooped Nico up from the bed. The son of Poseidon was so glad he’d followed Will’s instructions and eaten that last square of ambrosia, it was only due to that and the twenty some stitches that he was able to bite through the last bits of pain as he bridal carried Nico out the back door of the infirmary, taking a secret and unpopulated route to the Hades cabin. They encountered no other campers on the way there, which had been Percy’s goal— the wheel chair would’ve been difficult to traverse across the uneven ground and brought attention that Percy knew Nico would very much not appreciate.

On the way to the Hades cabin, Percy tried to distract Nico from embarrassment and discomfort by non-stop talking. It seemed to work though Nico’s skin was still boiling and must be sensitive since he hissed through clenched teeth at the contact of Percy’s arms and shirt around his exposed skin and disturbance to his bandages. Reyna offered continuously to help, but Percy shook his head each time. He was, however, grateful that she stuck close beside him in case his strength faltered. But Percy pushed down the pain of his own leg and the burning of his arms from the heat radiating from Nico, focusing on nothing but placing one step in front of the other. 

When they finally reached the cabin’s back door, Reyna rushed forward to open it and Percy brought Nico into the bedroom, squinting in the darkness as his eyes adjusted. Will came in behind them, hurriedly removing the layers of sheets from the bed so it wouldn’t be too warm. Percy grit his teeth as he waited but finally, he was able to gently lay Nico down onto the bed.

Will lit a candle so they could see as Nico closed his eyes, clearly at ease now that he was back in his own room after months of being away. Percy called on a small bundle of water from the reflection pond across the room, willing it to run across Nico’s arms and face. The son of Hades sighed at the coldness but still the fever did not relinquish. 

Percy clenched his jaw and made to get a larger amount of water but his outstretched hand trembled with exhaustion and the now flaring pain in his leg made it difficult to concentrate. The slumbering power within opened an eye, offering to assist, but he shoved it down and glanced at Nico to ground himself. The power drifted back into the depths of his core.

But the struggle did not go unnoticed. Will cleared his throat and placed a hand on Percy’s tense shoulder. Percy who was still coated in the filth of war. “Thank you for the great idea and for bringing him here, but Reyna and I can take over for a bit. You are in desperate need of a shower. Go clean yourself up.”

Even in the dim lighting, Will could tell Percy was opening his mouth to object, but the healer interjected with the swiftness of any celestial bronze sword. “If you come back here without a shower and at least three hours of sleep, I’ll have you speaking in couplets for the next three months.”

Despite his current condition, Nico let out a weak laugh from the bed. Percy’s anger melted at the sound and he nodded, gave Nico a parting pat on the shoulder, and departed with a heavy limp.

“Is there a bathing house here or something of the sorts?” Reyna asked once Percy had gone. Will shook his head with a raised brow. “I was thinking that could be a way to get his fever down, submerge him and throw ice in a little at a time to gradually lower his temperature.”

“Oh, that’s a really good idea. Short of putting him in the lake though I don’t think ther—”

“Aphrodite,” a weak voice said from the bed. Will nodded and elaborated for Reyna that the Aphrodite cabin has a small outdoor pool. He gave her directions for where to find them and she said goodbye before setting out.

Finally alone, Will sat on the edge of the bed, running a damp cloth he’d brought from the infirmary across Nico’s brow. After a few moments, he climbed up at Nico’s request.

“So, _God Killer…_ ”

“We need to figure out what that really means,” Nico said and added with hope drenched desperation, “Hopefully Lupe can actually help.”

“Hopefully. I should run some tests on you and Percy so that we’re equipped in case either of you get injured. Also would help to figure out your biological makeup. 

Nico nodded, “Percy and I need to go to the underworld.”

“And we need to clean up the battlefield,and reorganize the infirmary.”

“And make sure we’re on good terms with the Romans; see when they’ll leave.”

They looked at each other deeply. A million things to do between them. Nico brought Will closer and ran a scarred hand along his back. It was scorching, heat radiating from him in a way so strange for the usually frigid demigod. But Will did not flinch or pull away, not even at the sweat or filth as Nico’s voice rumbled beneath will’s ear.

“Tomorrow,” Nico said. They would worry about everything tomorrow. Together.

Will smiled into the bandages, placing a palm atop those angular muscles hard as granite, those bandages so tightly bound and abrasive radiating with feverous heat. And yet Will hadn’t been so comfortable in months. So he tilted his head, hair catching on the wrapping, to gaze up at his shadow, his star, his soul and smile. And for perhaps the first time in their lives, the universe smiled back. Will nestled himself closer and closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, been a while... sorry about that!
> 
> Carpe Noctem is the ending I'd intended for Fractured Darkness so it's taking me some time to come up with something just as thought out and cohesive for Carpe Lucem. I've got a goal in mind for how I'd like them both to end but it's all the in between parts that are giving me some trouble for Lucem. This whole experience of writing two endings has taught me that angst and darker themes come way easier to me than fluff and happiness lmao. I'm working on it though and hope you can still enjoy while I figure out a rhythm/flow :)
> 
> Okay, enough rambling for now! Thanks so much for reading <3

Nico didn’t remember falling asleep nor did he recall waking up. The fever had such hold over him, coating his senses and dampening his thoughts, that he felt as though he’d been simply drifting on the waves of fire and heat rolling off his body for hours. His mouth was dry, his chest tight, as his eyes fluttered, unable to remain open or closed. It was disorienting, how the slivers of light slipped through and struck his sensitive irises. 

He retreated into his mindscape, breathing a sigh of relief when he found he could fully open the eyes into his mind. Running across the onyx floor in the void-like expanse, he raced for that back corner of his mind, needing to cool this raging fire that had taken over his reality— needing to feel the wall of ice. Finally, he reached it, but a wall no longer stood. No glass of violating cold, no tendrils of darkness so all consuming they seemed fabricated from the dark space between stars, no nothing. Just more endless onyx floor and grey nothingness surrounding him. The darkness, the shadows, they were gone. No, not gone. He felt their pull, distant and faint, but he felt them there and when he took a moment to settle his rising anxiety at the violating emptiness, he could hear their whisper as if a breeze. The darkness was not gone, it was only weakened. Weakened by the light that had been forced inside of him. The light that had saved his life. Able to take a steady breath at last, he lowered himself onto his knees, listening to the breeze and the silence in between. It told him to follow, to find, to wield again but he simply listened and smiled to the whispers that sounded of freedom. 

There was something else, as if a taut string was pulled and released, a sound almost like the string of a harp. He raised a brow, looking around to find the source, only to be met with that grey nothingness surrounding him and that black floor beneath him. Closing his eyes, he hushed the whispering breeze of his weakened shadows and listened until his ears ached. 

There it was again.

This time the reverb echoed. It was a sort of piercing calm that settled into his bones. Opening his eyes, he saw a glowing thread suspended before him that extended as far as he could see to the left and right. The width of his forearm, it cast a faint light onto his palm as he reached out. He glanced down at the polished floor beneath him that cast a reflection, making it feel as though he were hovering between two endless beams of pure light— it was golden in a way only one thing could be: ichor.

Ghosting his hand above it, he loosed an uneasy breath and brought a finger down, pressing into the golden band then pulling away quickly. 

The sound that erupted from it threw Nico from his mindscape, forcing him back to reality as he jolted into a seated position with a strangled gasp. 

Beside him, Will startled but recovered quickly, reaching to the table beside him and bringing the damp cloth to Nico’s forehead as he said gently, “Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare? How are you feeling?”

All he could do was shake his head beneath the rag as he braced himself on trembling arms and heaved with shattered breaths. “N-no not a… not a nightmare,” he tried to gather his thoughts, searched for words to describe what he’d seen, what he’d felt, but came up empty. “I- I don’t know I don’t… I don’t know…”

“Shhh,” Will cooed. “It’s alright, Nico, tell me what you saw when you’re ready. Can you lie back down in the meantime for me?” Nico let himself be lowered onto the sweat damp sheets, melting at the fever and Will’s touch as his boyfriend removed the cloth and checked his temperature with the back of his hand. “Good, now do you think you can drink a few sips of water?”

Nico was still trembling, overwhelmed by the heat that began to rise again as he became more conscious but also at the sound of that strange string echoing in his head. He didn’t register Will bringing the cup to his lips and he drank on instinct when Will instructed him to.

“That’s it,” Will praised, making Nico’s heart flutter despite the chaos of his mind. “Better?”

Forcing himself to meet those blue eyes, Nico blinked, nodding just as slowly. He brought a hand that felt too heavy up to his chest, to the bandages constricting his breathing and pressed into them. A dull ache throbbed back from the fresh scars hidden beneath. 

Will gently pulled the pale hand away, clasping it between his own instead and bringing it to his lips where he planted a soft kiss onto the gold ring that, despite everything, was still on Nico’s pointer finger. Nico looked up in a daze, brows furrowing slightly as the echoing sound began to lessen. He could vaguely make out the worry in Will’s features. 

An angel. In all his experience, Nico knew such a creature did not exist. But if they did, he bet they’d look like Will. The angel laughed as Nico realized he was staring. He drowned in the sound, let it distract him from the discomfort of his bandaged torso and the sheets sticking to him.

“Now that you’re awake, why don’t I go get Reyna— maybe Leo and Jason too? She spoke to Piper and they’ve got the swimming pond all ready for you. It’ll help bring your fever down and give me a chance to run some tests to find a better solution.”

Nico barely registered the words but nodded weakly. He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of the front door opening burst down the hall and into the room. Not a moment later did Percy appear. His eyes were wide and frantic, breaths haggard and rapid as he crossed the room, limping as he did.

“Percy,” there was a warning in Will’s voice and he shifted where he sat on the side of the bed, positioning himself in front of the incoherent Nico protectively, “I thought I made myself clear you weren’t to come back until you’d slept for at least three hours. It’s barely been two.”

The son of Poseidon shook his head, hunching over to catch his breath as he tried to put words to what had woke him up. When he felt less at risk of collapse, Percy went to the foot of the bed. Nico looked awful— his vision unfocused, sweat clinging to the sharp edges of his face and the caverns of every muscle, and those wrappings… just by looking at them constricting his rib cage and stomach caused Percy to feel suffocated. But he braced his hands on the mattress, leaning forward over Nico’s feet to meet his dazed eyes. He opened his mouth, but Nico interrupted him with a mumbled whisper.

“You saw it too?”

Will flicked his eyes between the two God Killers, brow raising in confusion, but Percy nodded to Nico. “I was… having a nightmare. But then this weird glowing… string appeared out of nowhere. I reached out to touch it but… I guess you did first? There was this sound… almost like a violin or—”

“A harp.”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, like a harp. And then I woke up so fast I fell off my bed.”

“Do y-you… do you think it’s… the bond?” Nico asked weakly.

Again, Percy nodded, albeit much slower this time. “Maybe. It looked like… almost like it was made of—”

“Ichor.”

Will stilled at that. “Hold on… what? You two are metaphysically bonded?”

Percy gave a smile of fear laced uncertainty as he shrugged, “Guess so.”

The healer ran a hand across his face, going through the rolodex of tests he should run and which of his siblings he should consult. His brain thrummed with excitement, though his heart strained at the realization of what this could all mean for Nico and Percy; what the gods wouldn’t do for the power in this room… 

“We need to keep this to ourselves. Need to lay low, focus on getting Nico back to equilibrium with his essence, and get you two to the Underworld before anyone with a hunger for power or skill of manipulation can come for either of you.”

Percy nodded in agreement, Nico the same. Will let out another breath images flashed across his mind of his soulmate being taken from him— tortured or controlled or worse. A hand— usually frigid yet comforting, now burning and wrong— enveloped his own. He turned to see Nico smiling faintly.

“Percy, on your way back to bed,” Will said, still gazing into Nico’s onyx eyes as he counted the golden flakes held within, “could you please ask Reyna, Leo, and Jason to come here? I need their help getting Nico to the Aphrodite campers pond.”

“Got plenty of rest, I can help.”

Will looked pointedly at how Percy wasn’t putting any weight on his injured leg then jerked his chin to the dark circles beneath each sea green eye. Against his tan skin, they almost looked like bruises. “From what Annabeth told me, you’ve been sedated for the past few days and, knowing you, you weren’t getting nearly enough sleep even before that. You need sleep and you need it now, Jackson.”

Percy flinched at the mention of his girlfriends name, but shook his head and said,“But I-”

“Don’t make me get Clarisse to physically knock you unconscious. She’s got alotta pent up rage from all those weeks of battle planning without you or Annabeth here to help.”

“She can try.”

The healer held the God Killer’s glare, not so much as flinching beneath the levity that began to burn like poison. A voice gentle yet strong sliced between the two.

“Percy, if we’re actually bonded… maybe your well-being has the capacity to affect my recovery.” The son of Poseidon broke his stare with Will, looking to Nico as each word struck him. “If you can’t take care of yourself for you, then do it for me.”

Percy nodded with a defeated sigh and turned to Will with an apologetic grin before limping off to find the others.

Will watched the God Killer leave then turned to his own only to find him already fast asleep. 

An angel. That’s what Nico looked like. Features slack, body gleaming in the light seeping in from the partially opened curtain, not a single ounce of tension to be found… Will tilted his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes as he thanked every god in creation for the angel by his side.

* * *

Alive.

The son of Hades was alive.

He had survived Echidna. He had survived the beast. He had survived the  _ impossible. _

How.  _ How? _

The kind of power Nico di Angelo contained was that of legend, of myth. But he was not immortal. He was not spared from the brutalities of life and death— not even as the son of Death itself.

And yet, and yet—

The streets of Olympus were bursting with revelry— another war won, another victory for the gods despite their lack of contribution to said victory. The council meeting in the Hall of the Gods had been that of tense contentment— as if they all knew all was not as it seemed when it came to that boy of shadow and bone, but were pleased in the victory just as much as the rest of Olympus.

And yet, and yet— 

Zeus could not partake in the copious amounts of nectar pouring throughout the city between chalices of gold nor enjoy the pleasures that had been awaiting him in his private chambers. 

Because for him, there was no victory. Nico di Angelo was alive. And someone just as powerful must have ensured that. Zeus’ thoughts were spiraling, the room filling with static electricity as he tried to make sense of it all, when a knock sounded at his door.

The marble opened without a sound, just as silent as his most prized servant who crossed the room, extended an envelope to the God King, turned and was gone. Zeus couldn’t help but grin— he’d had the centaur fasten felt to his hooves, furthering the silence Zeus treasured so much. The only reason he hadn’t removed the tongues of all his servants was for the sole fact that he relished in the sounds he could extract from the nymphs each and every night.

Eventually, he looked down to the envelope in his hand. The glossy black finish was like a mirror, reflecting his own face as he turned it over and tore open the flap from beneath the wax seal— this time the usual skull embedded in silver wax.

An invitation to dinner in celebration of the demigod’s victory. And the survival of their son.

Zeus snarled at his brother’s scrawl, at the formality and pride each letter contained. But he leashed his frustrations as he saw what was at the bottom of the ivory card. Not beneath his brother’s name, no— beside it in a way that spoke of equality and respect. 

That calligraphic signature seemed to burn through the ivory and darkness— crimson ink and all.


End file.
